Learning to Live Again
by PrincessofDarkness11
Summary: When Harry agrees to try his hand at pulling George from his self-destructive depression, he has no idea of the impact the interaction will have on the man's life. Or his own. SLASH!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potter related. It all belongs to JKR and Warner Bros and all of those lucky bastards…

Author's Note: This is my very first slash fanfic that is neither Snarry nor Drarry. Please be gentle!

HxGxHxGxHxG

When Harry James Potter awoke on December fourth in the year 2000, his first instinct was to roll over and go back to sleep. One look out the window told him it was another cold, grey, snowy day in London. However, Ron and Hermione were coming over that morning. So, with a sigh he pulled himself out of bed and trudged into the bathroom to relieve his bladder and take care of other such morning duties.

After a quick shower, he dressed and made his way to the kitchen, where a fresh pot of coffee awaited him. He poured himself a cup and inhaled the delicious aroma, thanking whatever deity for the man who invented the timed brewer.

A rapid tapping on his window announced the arrival of the morning paper. He let the poor owl inside, along with a frigid burst of winter air, and again reminded himself to sign up for the door-to-door delivery service. He allowed the creature to perch on his mantle and warm herself by the fire for a while, giving her a gracious helping of treats, before duty called once more and she had to leave.

He sat at the kitchen table with his coffee and The Daily Prophet and read through the various reports. Three more Death Eater trials and convictions… it was hard to believe that after two and a half years they still hadn't apprehended them all. The latest attempt at an uprising was quashed before it had time to gain any kind of momentum. And, of course, there were the usual tabloids speculating on his personal life.

He sighed. People were still wondering why he chose to live in the muggle world. And why he didn't become an auror. _And_ why he still hadn't found a nice witch or wizard to settle down with.

The latest story going around was that the amount of magic he used to defeat Voldemort drained him, rendering him a squib. If only they knew how wrong that was…

Since he defeated Voldemort, his magic had spiked. He only had to think the spell for it to work. No wand, no words, just raw magic. And when he was upset… well, it was sometimes borderline painful to get his magic back under control.

A soft ding announced the use of his floo and the arrival of his two best friends.

"Harry?" Hermione called.

"Kitchen!" he called back.

They walked into the room and sat down at the table. He folded his paper and set it aside, looking at them expectantly. "Now what is it that you needed to talk about? And _why_ couldn't it wait until a less unholy hour?"

"First of all, it's ten o'clock," Hermione said, grinning, "Normal people _are_ awake right now."

"And second of all," Ron continued soberly, "It's George."

Harry sighed, sensing a headache coming on. It was simply too early for this.

"What is it now?" he asked.

"Just the usual," Hermione said.

"Except now he's refusing to even _see_ anybody," Ron stated, "Nobody can figure out how to get through to him! He just sits up in that flat and tries to drink himself to death!"

"Which brings us to why we came to you," Hermione said, "We'd like you to talk to him."

"And _why_ do you think I'll be able to get through to him where his own family couldn't?" he asked.

"Because… you've lost more to that madman than anybody else," Ron replied, "If anybody understands what he's going through, it's you."

"But- you've all lost brothers and sons and friends… you understand just as well," Harry said.

"George didn't just lose brother. He lost his _twin_," Hermione explained, "Their entire lives, they were 'Fred and George'. One entity in two bodies. Their own mother could barely tell them apart. The only one who ever identified them as individuals was you."

Harry sighed. "I can try."

They smiled appreciatively.

"But don't get disappointed if I fail," he added.

"We won't. It's enough that you're going to try, mate," Ron said.

"So… do you have any plans for tonight?" Hermione asked.

"Besides going over to speak with George? Not particularly," Harry replied, "What about you guys?"

"Dinner with Ginny and Neville," Ron said, sounding less than enthusiastic about it.

Harry laughed, making Hermione scowl. "Honestly, 'Mione… you have to admit that they are one of the most sickeningly sweet couples you've ever seen!"

"Second only to Lavender and '_Won-Won_'!" Hermione quipped.

Ron groaned. "I thought we agreed to never speak of that!"

She laughed. "Just remember that Ginny is your sister and Neville is your friend and that you only want them to be happy. And they _are_. Okay?"

"Yeah, I know…" Ron sighed.

Hermione smiled and shook her head.

"Hey, do you guys want to go get some breakfast? I don't much feel like cooking," Harry said.

"We've already eaten…" Hermione said.

"But we'd love to! I'm starving!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I swear he'd eat through all of his money if he could."

"Don't worry. My treat," Harry said.

"It'd better be," she said, mock glaring.

After breakfast, they parted ways. Harry said he'd call them to let them know how went with George and made his way back to his flat. He saw a nice sit-down with the telly in his future.

On the way back, he mused over what Ron had requested of him. What on earth could he do to snap George out of his depression? Talking obviously wasn't working. Of course, if anybody tried talking to _him_ about his parents or Sirius or Dumbledore or Remus… he would have just gotten more upset. After all, none of them knew exactly how he felt. They weren't _him_, so how could they?

Had anybody ever tried just listening? Of course, then there's the question of how to get George to talk. Remus had always gotten him to talk by bringing up old memories. But sometimes that just made it even more painful. Dumbledore… Dumbledore had had the best method. He'd just ask him what was on his mind and sit patiently while Harry vented all of his worries and frustrations.

He smiled at the memory of his mentor, pulling his scarf up to shield his face from the harsh wind. He was never so grateful for the long, black wool coat that Hermione had gotten him the previous Christmas as he was on this day.

Just as he reached his building, he heard the click of a camera shutter and sighed, turning to greet whatever paparazzi was waiting for him. However, the person standing there smiling was Dennis Creevey. He grinned at the young man.

"Heya, Harry!" Dennis exclaimed, walking over to him.

"Hullo, Dennis. It's been a while, hasn't it?" Harry said.

"Too long, if you ask me," Dennis replied, "So, how've you been?"

Harry grinned. "As much as I _love_ the snow, I'd prefer a place that's a bit- warmer. Would you like to come up?"

His face lit up at the invitation and he nodded fervently, making Harry chuckle. Same old Creevey enthusiasm.

"You can hang your coat there, by the door," Harry said when they entered his home.

"Wow… this place is huge!" Dennis said, following Harry into the sitting room.

"Money's never really been an issue," he replied, "Have a seat."

"So… you really _are_ living as a muggle? Just like the papers said?" Dennis asked, eyeing the television and house phone.

"Sort of. The fireplace is connected to the floo network and I still get post by owl," Harry said, "But I like to do a lot of things the muggle way."

"You're not a squib, then?"

He laughed. "Not at all."

To demonstrate, he summoned a book from the shelf across the room.

"Wow! Wandless magic! You really must be the most powerful wizard in the world!" Dennis said in awe.

Harry blushed and decided it was time for a change of subject. "You graduated earlier this year, didn't you? What have you been up to since then?"

"Right now I'm just doing some freelance photography and an internship with the Quibbler. Luna's really turned it around since she took over. It's much more respectable. And it's gaining popularity every day!"

"That doesn't seem like a very steady paycheck," Harry said, grinning, "Trying it as a starving artist type?"

Dennis laughed. "Not really. I also work at the coffee house down the street. Actually, I was at work when I spotted you walking past." He blushed and chuckled nervously. "That sounds a bit like I'm stalking you, doesn't it?"

"No. I understand. So, how much is a picture of me going for these days?" Harry asked, truly curious.

"A _lot_," Dennis replied seriously, "They're pretty hard to come by, you see…"

"I try to keep a low profile," he said, "But since you're a friend, I don't mind if you snap one of me every so often. After all, you work right up the street and I pass by that place pretty often."

Dennis smiled, practically bursting with excitement. "Do you mean it? Man, that would be a huge help! It would seriously boost my chances of going pro sooner!"

"Really? Then maybe I'll give you one of those anonymous tips," he said, smirking, "And tell you that if you hang around Renaldi's Bistro on Saturday around… twelve-thirty, you might snap one that'll make you infamous."

"What's that?" Dennis asked.

"Harry Potter having lunch with former arch-rival, Draco Malfoy!"

"No! Seriously? But you two hated each other _so much_!"

"Time to grow up, I suppose," he shrugged, "Besides, he runs a lot of the charities that I donate to. It's partially business."

"You sure have changed, Harry," Dennis said.

"You think so?"

"Yeah…" Dennis said with a flash of teeth, "But it's a good change. Like… you're more comfortable in your own skin."

"Well, thanks. I think?" he said, making the young man laugh, "So, anything else new? Got a girlfriend?"

Dennis blushed.

"Is that a yes?"

"No… I mean- not really…" he said, "The thing is… I'm not really- into girls…"

"Really?" Harry said, surprised, "Then… have you got a boyfriend?"

Dennis looked at him strangely. "It doesn't freak you out? You don't think I'm gross?"

"Why would I? Listen, the world is a lot more open to homosexual relationships than you think. And the wizarding community is even more so. It's perfectly normal," Harry explained.

"Really?" Dennis said.

"Well, yeah! I know a lot of gay guys. Seamus and Dean are together, did you know?" Harry said, "And Charlie Weasley and- you did _not_ hear this from me- so is Draco."

"Wow… I never would have guessed," Dennis said.

"So, nobody ever had this talk with you, either, huh?" Harry said.

"No. I never brought it up to any… wait. Me _'either'_?" Dennis said.

Harry smiled warmly. "Yep. Me, too. Did I forget to mention that?"

"Yeah. You did," Dennis said, grinning.

"Well… it's not something I like to spread around. I figured it out just a few months after… you know. It's why Ginny and I never got back together," he said, "I had to get 'the talk' from Arthur and Molly Weasley. You can just imagine how awkward that was." He laughed.

"What kinds of things did they tell you?" Dennis asked.

"To be careful and always use protection and birth control spells," Harry said, "That's the less embarrassing version anyway."

"Birth control? But- if we're both _guys_…" Dennis stated.

Harry chuckled. "That's what I said. But wizards _can_ get pregnant by another wizard."

"_How_?!" Dennis exclaimed.

Harry blushed. "You're really going to make me explain, aren't you?" He sighed and steeled himself. "First of all, are you a bottom or a top?"

"I- I don't know…" Dennis stuttered.

"When you fantasize, which are you?" he asked.

"B-bottom…" Dennis said quietly.

"Alright… so- basically what happens is- the… _seed_ is absorbed by the- er… anal walls and you body creates a magical- womb," Harry explained, feeling that his face was on the brink of spontaneous combustion, "You'd have to get a Cesarean, or a C-section, because there _is_ no birth canal, but it's not any less painful than it is for a woman. Yes, you do gain weight, _and _get the baby belly, _and _the odd cravings, and, _yes_, even the mood swings. Just like women. Can we stop now? Do you have any questions? Please say you don't."

"Which are you?" Dennis asked.

"What?" Harry said.

"Which are you?" Dennis repeated, "Top or bottom?"

Harry blinked a few times, still not believing what he was hearing.

"I promise not to tell anybody. I'm just curious," Dennis said, his eyes pleading.

"I'm- a bottom…"

"_Really_? That's difficult to picture," Dennis stated, brows furrowed.

"You shouldn't be _trying_ to picture it!" Harry exclaimed.

They looked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter, breaking the awkward tension that inevitable followed 'the talk'.

"So… I hope you don't this is an impertinent question, but… how does it feel?" Dennis asked.

"How does what feel?"

"Oh, honestly! Sex! How does _sex_ feel?" Dennis laughed, "You're so dense!"

Harry grinned. "I wouldn't know. Never had it."

Dennis' eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes, really, and that doesn't leave this room," Harry said.

"I won't tell anybody, I promise!" Dennis said.

Harry smiled. "No, no significant other to speak of… got your eye on anybody in particular?"

"Yeah…" Dennis said, blushing, "His name's Rick and he works at The Quibbler as a reporter."

"I see… have you approached him at all?" Harry asked.

"No! Merlin, no! I don't even know if he's… y'know… if he likes guys…" Dennis said, "But he's really smart and funny and handsome and he likes my photography! He's even taken me with him on a few interviews."

"But you've never told him how you feel or asked him to grab lunch or a cup of coffee or _anything?_" Harry said. Dennis shook his head. "Why not? Go for it, mate!"

"I can't! What if he says no or he has a girlfriend? It'd be too embarrassing!" Dennis said.

"What if he says yes and really likes you?" Harry countered.

Dennis just sighed.

"Alright, how about this… when are you going to be at The Quibbler next?" Harry asked.

"Tomorrow, why?" Dennis replied.

"Because… I'm going to take you to lunch. And scope out Rick for you," Harry said.

"You don't have to do that," Dennis said.

Harry laughed. "Don't worry… I'm not going to scare him off. I'm just going to ask him to lunch with us. It'll be less awkward if it's a group thing and it'll give you a chance to get to know him on a more personal level, rather than just a professional one."

Dennis sighed in relief. It _would_ be easier to talk to Rick with Harry there as a social buffer. "Alright, I suppose that would be fun…"

"That's the spirit!" Harry said.

"Since we're on the subject," Dennis stated, "Do _you_ have any love interests?"

Not a one," Harry said.

"Why not?" Dennis asked.

"I don't know. I guess nobody's really caught my eye…" he said, shrugging, "I don't really meet new people."

"Why is that?" Dennis said.

"Because it's hard to tell if they're really interested in me as a person, or me as the 'Savior of the World'…"

"Oh… well, you'll never know if you never give anybody a chance," Dennis said.

Harry grinned. "Maybe you're right. But I'm happy with my life right now. If I eventually meet someone that I'm interested in romantically, that's great. However, I see no reason to actively seek out a relationship."

"Are you _sure_ you're happy?" Dennis asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I'm positive!" he laughed.

"Well… I should probably get going. I told my boss I'd be back soon and…" he looked at his watch, "I'll be lucky if I even have a job!"

"Is your boss witch or muggle?" Harry asked.

"Muggle-born wizard," Dennis replied, putting his coat on.

"Then just tell him you were talking to Harry Potter," he said, grinning.

"Are you sure it's okay to use your fame like that?" Dennis asked.

"Usually, it's not. But in this case, it's an exception," Harry said, "After all, it was my fault. I'm the one who invited you in and made you lose track of time."

"Thanks a lot," Dennis said, "See you later, Harry!"

"Bye, Dennis. Don't forget about lunch tomorrow!" Harry called as he shut the door.

He looked at the clock. Still a while before he planned to go see George… what to do until then? He seated himself on the sofa, summoning one of his favorite books, and settled in for a quiet afternoon.

Eventually, the time came for him to leave. He quickly gathered some Pepper-Up potions and the special surprise he wanted to bring George, grabbed his coat and scarf, and flooed to The Leaky Cauldron. From there, he walked to the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes shop and up to the flat above it.

"George?" he said loudly, knocking on the door.

"Who is it?" came a groggy voice from within.

"It's Harry. Can I come in?" he asked.

There was silence.

"George, let me in," he said.

Still, silence was the only answer he received.

"I guess I'll just let myself in…" he muttered to himself.

There were a series of complicated locking and warding spells on the door, but Harry breezed through them with little effort. He stepped into the spacious apartment and first thought was that it didn't look like anybody even lived there anymore. All furniture and pictures and decorations had been completely removed, leaving the place looking bare and depressing.

"George?" he said, closing the door behind him.

The read-headed man peered around the corner from the kitchen. "How the hell did you get in?"

"Easily," Harry lauged, "Don't worry, though. Your wards are more than adequate for most people."

He walked into the kitchen and found what looked like a sea of empty bottles. _'Well…'_ he thought, _'At least it looks lived in…'_

"Okay, then… _why _are you here?" George asked.

"One good guess," Harry replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Ron asked you to come," George said.

"Bingo!" Harry said, chuckling, "They said you were refusing to see anybody."

"Well, yeah! I'm tired of them always fussing over me. I'm perfectly f-fine!" George stated, grabbing a bottle of Firewhiskey and stumbling into the empty sitting room.

"I can see that…" Harry said skeptically, following him.

"Oh, not you, too!" George exclaimed, flopping down onto the soft carpet, "I suppose you're here to tell me how Freddy would have wanted me to a happy life. And how you understand what I'm going through and how I need to stop drinking and take better care of myself."

Harry sat down across from him, crossing his legs. "Not at all. I'm simply here to give you a little care package and to listen if _you_ feel like talking."

George scoffed disbelievingly.

"Look… I'm not about to tell you what Fred would have wanted. I'm not _him_ and nobody will ever know what would want you to do because he's not here to say. I'm not going to tell you to stop drinking because you're an adult and you can make your own decisions," Harry said, sighing, "But- out of everybody, I think I _do_ understand what you're going through. At least, more than most."

"How can you understand?" George said, taking a huge drink straight from the bottle.

Harry handed him one of the potions. "I want you sober for this conversation." When he downed the entire thing and set aside the bottle, Harry continued. "I lost both of my parents when I was a baby. I grew up in a loveless household where I was neglected and verbally abused at every opportunity and I didn't even have memories of a happier time to comfort myself. I lost Sirius, my _Godfather_ and last chance at a happy family, and Remus, the last remaining connection to my parents. I lost Dumbledore, the closest thing I ever had to a father figure. And I lost friends. Fred was among them. Now, I've never lost a twin, or even a brother, so _no_, I don't know exactly what that feels like. But… but I do know what it feels like to have a part of your soul that you've lived with all you life ripped away. I know it is to feel empty and lost, like you're missing something vital. To feel lonely even when you're surrounded by friends and family."

"How could you possibly know all of that?" George said, his head in his hands.

"Because I've lived with it since I killed Voldemort." Harry took a deep breath. "What I'm about to tell you goes no further than this room. I've never even told Ron or Hermione about this. _I_ was a horcrux. When Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby, he transferred a part of his soul into me. I had to sacrifice myself to the killing curse to destroy that piece of him. I survived- and please don't ask how, because you wouldn't believe me if I told you- and then it was just a constant battle to keep myself from self-destructing. However, with time it's gotten easier… having my friends around helped a lot… and now I hardly ever really think about it. You just- find something to live for. You learn to enjoy life again."

George just looked at him in a mixture of awe and pity. Which made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Of course, _I'm_ not the one who's supposed to be talking here," he said in an effort to lighten the mood… or get rid of that awful vulnerable feeling.

"I- just don't know what you want me to say," George said, "I'm not as strong as you, Harry. You live with people who hated you and I'm sure it was terrible, but it taught you to be independent. You relied on yourself. I- I've always depended on Fred. We were each other's support system. Without him, I feel like I've got nobody. We were always 'the twins'. Fred and George. Now that it's just George, I don't know what to do with myself." He paused, taking a shaky breath and obviously trying not to cry. "I can't even face my family because I feel like they blame me. Harry, I- I turned away. In the middle of a battle, I _turned away from him_! It was one second- one second!- and when I turned back, he was just- lying there… and- it's my fault!"

"It's really not, though. Fred could handle himself. He was tough. They were just… a little bit tougher," Harry said.

"I know, alright? I know! But I can't help feeling responsible!" George exclaimed.

"Yeah… if there's one thing I understand, it's feeling guilty over a death that, even though there was ultimately nothing you could have done to prevent it, you still feel you played a part in," Harry said quietly, "But- drinking is not going to make the guilt and sadness and pain go away. And it's certainly not going to bring Fred back."

"I know…" George sniffed, setting his head back in his hands, "I know…"

Harry scooted closer until their sides were touching, offering silent comfort to the distraught man. When George had calmed himself, he brought out his surprise and placed it on the floor in front of him.

"What's that?" George asked.

"See for yourself," Harry replied.

George picked up the large, heavy book and opened the cover. When he saw the seal on the inside, his eyes widened almost comically. "Is this…? Really…?"

"Yep! The Marauders official log book," Harry said proudly, "It's only a copy, though. I've got the original in a high security vault. But… it's got everything in it. All of their pranks, all of the spells and potions that they invented. Even some that they thought up but never attempted or couldn't get the kinks out of." He grinned, nudging George with an elbow. "I know that you haven't come up with any new products in a while and I thought this might inspire you."

"When Fred died, I locked the door to our workroom. I haven't been in there since then…" George stated.

"I don't expect you to jump right back into work or anything," Harry said, "It's just something to think about."

They sat in silence for a bit when Harry's stomach made itself known and he realized he hadn't eaten anything since he'd gotten breakfast with Ron and Hermione.

"What have you been eating?" he asked George.

"Mostly take out. When I _do_ eat, anyway…" George replied sheepishly.

"Do you have _any_ food here?" he said. George just quirked an eyebrow at him. "I suppose you wouldn't, would you? Well, I'm hungry. Since I'm assuming you don't want to go out in public, would you like to come over and I'll make us something? I'm sure it's been a fair while since you've had a home cooked meal."

For a moment George looked as though he might refuse the offer. But then, for the first time since Harry arrived, he smiled. "Sounds good to me."

"Is your floo still active?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. It just won't let anybody in but me," George replied.

"How else would you get your daily serving of alcohol?" Harry joked, standing.

"Haha… alright, funny-man, let's get to this home cooked," George said.

They flooed to Harry's flat, where he took off his coat and scarf and laid it over the back of the chair. "What are you in the mood for?"

"I have no preferences. I'll eat anything," George said.

"Okay, _Ron_…" he muttered.

"I heard that!" George called, making him laugh.

"How does chicken fettuccini alfredo with breadsticks and steamed vegetables sound?" Harry asked.

"Great! Italian is my favorite," George said, walking over to the bookshelf and perusing its contents. There were a lot of muggle classics, as well as every issue of The Quibbler that had come out in over two years. _That_ made him chuckle. Of course, one of Harry's best friends ran the magazine, so it made sense. What _didn't_ make sense was that Harry owned all of the potions journals written by Severus Tobias Snape. He's have to ask him it sometime. There was probably quite a story behind it.

He finally pulled himself away from the books and looked around. The place was rather cozy, full of soft plush furniture and picture upon picture of Harry's family and friends, including a full Weasley family portrait.

Before he knew it, dinner was ready and Harry called him into the dining room.

"I'm nowhere near as good as your mum, but it should be edible…" he joked.

George sat down and grinned. He took a bite and was honestly surprised. In all the years he'd known Harry, he never figured the guy could cook. "This is amazing! Where'd you learn how to cook?"

"I cooked for the Dursleys all of the time," Harry replied.

"I can tell…" George said, looking at the enormous amounts of food.

Dinner was a friendly affair. They spoke mostly about what was going on in Harry's life and about the past. Harry was glad to see that whenever they spoke of Fred, George was usually smiling or laughing, only falling into that sad, contemplative kind of silence once or twice throughout the entire evening.

When the time came for George to leave, Harry didn't want to see him go. Having George around made everything seem more pleasant, more fun. However, he didn't ask him to stay.

"So… do you think you could stop by again tomorrow?" George asked, "I'd like to talk some more."

Harry smiled excitedly. "Sure! I've just got lunch with Dennis and I'll be over after that?"

George looked at him strangely. "Who's _Dennis_?"

"Dennis Creevey. From school?" Harry said, "I'm trying to help him get together with a guy he works with. Long story… But I'll be over tomorrow at about one or two, alright?"

George nodded and disappeared in the flames.

Once he was gone, Harry felt oddly disheartened. His large flat seemed even more vast and empty without George there. However, he didn't give himself time to dwell on it as he set about cleaning up after dinner. Once that task was accomplished, he took a shower and dressed for bed, watching a bit of television before finally retiring.

Thinking of the days events and all that tomorrow held in store for him, Harry felt happier than he had in a very long time. He hadn't much time to ponder the cause of that happiness, for sleep took him quickly. And with sleep, came dreams filled with a smiling face, gentle hands, and laughing blue eyes…

HxGxHxGxHxG

Bwahahaha! Wow… Long for a first chapter… I was rather surprised at myself when Dennis Creevey suddenly jumped out of my pen. I mean… where did THAT come from? Talk about a minor freaking character! Lol. But I like him! He's so cute! Anyway… please review! I live off of reviews! I CRAVE them! Until next time, my lovelies!

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	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't anything Harry Potter related. It all belongs to a wonderful woman by the name of J.K. Rowling and the Warner Bros. Company and… whoever else. Basically it's owned by a bunch of people who are NOT me.

A/N: Welcome back! I hope you all enjoyed chapter one! I'd like to give a big thank you to everybody who reviewed! For all of you, I have eternal gratitude and cyber-cookies!!

HxGxHxGxHxG

"Harry!" Luna said when walked into The Quibble office building, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm taking Dennis out to lunch," he replied enveloping her in a brotherly hug, "But I'm also here for you, y'know. Since you just don't have the time for me anymore…"

She laughed, returning the embrace. "I just saw you less than a week ago, you brute. Now let go of me before you make my employees lose what little respect for me they have left."

He obliged, chuckling, and found himself to be the target of quite a few curious and confused stares. "So, where _is_ Dennis?"

"Before I answer, may I ask why you're taking him to lunch?" Luna said.

"We ran into each other yesterday and decided we should hang out and do some catching up," Harry replied, shrugging.

"I see. So…" she looked nervous and hesitant about what to say next.

"Luna, if there's something you want to ask me, just ask," he said.

"I know you don't usually do this, but I was wondering… do you think my magazine could interview you? It's been a while since everything happened and people are still so curious about you and…" she paused, "I meant to ask you last week, but I chickened out."

He smiled. "Normally, I'd say no on the spot. However, since you're a friend, I'll think about it. You'll have my answer after lunch."

She grinned. "Dennis is over with Rick, working on something or other."

"Thanks," he said, walking in the direction of the desk she gestured to.

He stopped in front of it and stood for a moment before it became clear that the pair were too immersed in their work to notice. He rapped his knuckles against the desk loudly, startling them. Dennis looked up and grinned.

"Harry! Is it lunchtime already?" he stated.

"I'm actually about forty-five minutes late," Harry said, smirking.

His eyes strayed to Rick, who was staring at him with a mixture of shock, curiosity, and amusement. Rick was much more attractive than Harry had though he would be. He was broad shouldered with thick, chestnut hair and dark smoldering eyes. When he stood up to shake Harry's hand, he also noticed how tall he was. He gripped the man's hand firmly and smiled brightly.

"Rick, I'm assuming," Harry said, "Dennis speaks very highly of you."

When Rick smiled, he was taken aback by how warm and sincere it was. "Same goes for you," he said in a silky baritone voice.

Dennis looked anxiously between the two of them when released their hands, and Harry grinned approvingly at him. "Where do you want to go for lunch?"

"There's a good sandwich bar not too far from here," Dennis suggested.

"Sounds fine to me," Harry consented, "Would you like to come along, Rick? I'm sure Luna wouldn't mind."

"Not at all," she said, coming up behind Harry, "You two have been working hard all day."

"Thanks, boss," Rick said, "I'd love to join you."

"Perfect," Harry said, giving Luna a grateful look, "Shall we go, then?"

He stepped around the desk, offering them a more complete look, and from the way Rick sized him up with his eyes, he didn't think the man was at all adverse to same-sex relationships. Smirking, he draped his arm around Dennis' shoulders.

"Lead the way, maestro," he said.

As they sat down to eat, Harry decided to strike up some conversation. "Luna asked me to give an interview for The Quibbler."

"Really?" Dennis said excitedly, "What did you say?"

"That she'd have my answer after lunch," Harry said.

"Why after lunch?" Rick asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Harry grinned. "I wanted to ask if two would consider being the ones to do the article and the interview."

His grin turned into a smirk when both Rick and Dennis began to choke. He took a large bite of his own sandwich.

"_Why_? I'm still just a rookie. I've only been with the magazine for a year!" Rick said, when he'd calmed himself.

He help up a finger as he finished chewing and swallowed. "That's actually part of the reason. As a relatively new reporter, you're less biased in your opinions of me, and less likely to be looking for publicity to further your own name. The other reason is that you're probably the only one who'd let Dennis be your photographer. And he's the only one I'll allow to photograph me."

"Why is that?" Rick asked, narrowing his eyes.

"It's more personal with Dennis. I believe that the photographer's feelings for their subject are clearly shown in the pictures they take. The more of a personal interest they have, the better the pictures turn out," Harry said, "Plus it's my own sneaky way of helping to advance his career."

Rick suddenly stood up. "Can I speak with you for a moment, Mr. Potter?"

"Sure, and call me Harry, please," he said, following the man out to the street, giving Dennis a small smile as he did so, "What did you want to speak about?"

"What's your relationship with Dennis?" Rick asked.

For a moment, he simply blinked. "What?"

"You heard me," Rick replied.

"Why do you ask?" Harry said, smirking.

"Because… I'm curious," Rick said, "So? The answer?"

"I see no reason to answer simply to appease your curiosity," Harry said, "So, unless you have a _better_ reason…"

Rick was silent, a slight pink tinge rising to his cheeks that had nothing to do with the weather.

"Do you have feelings for him?" Harry asked.

Rick sighed. "Yes, I do."

"Then, you should know that Dennis and I are old friends. Nothing more," he said, smiling.

"Good," Rick said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Are you going to tell him any time soon?" Harry asked.

Rick looked startled. "No! I couldn't!"

Harry laughed at how similar that was to Dennis' reaction. "Well, you should. You definitely should. Don't tell him I said anything, but he's crazy about you."

"Really?" Rick said.

Harry nodded, chuckling at the man. He looked pretty hardcore, but apparently he was a big squishy teddy bear. "Let's go back in before Dennis has a panic attack, thinking I've killed you."

Rick laughed.

"So, what did you two talk about?" Dennis asked nervously.

"Nothing much. Just the interview and of my ulterior motives," Harry said, winking.

Dennis blushed, knowing- or having an idea of- what they'd _actually_ discussed.

They finished lunch with amicable talk about the interview- possible dates, lines of questioning, and such- as well as Quidditch, of which Rick was an avid fan. When Harry parted with them at The Quibbler building, it was with confidence that the two would be getting together soon, if not that day. Luna was thrilled that he's said yes to her proposition and immediately agreed to his conditions, understanding that he wanted people he knew and liked. He hugged her once more, promising to get together soon, and left.

He checked his watch and, seeing that it was nearly three o'clock, swore loudly. He hoped that George wouldn't be angry that he was late. He rushed to the WWW shop and up to the apartment, entering with not problem.

"George? You here?" he called.

The man in question came stumbling out of the kitchen, clutching a nearly empty bottle of scotch. "I didn't think you were g-gonna show."

Harry sighed. "Obviously…"

George grinned, drunkenly throwing an arm around him. "But you did, din't you? You're _late_, you know…"

"Yes, I'm aware of this. I got caught up with Dennis and Rick," Harry said, leading George into the sitting room.

"Who the fuck's _Rick_?" George asked, stopping short.

"He's a reporter for The Quibbler. I've agreed to let him interview me for the magazine," Harry said.

"You haven't g-gave an interview in… forever. What's so- special about _Rick_?" George asked.

Harry gave him a strange look. "Well, he is _dead sexy_…" he said sarcastically.

Unfortunately, George didn't get the joke. He let go of Harry and stormed- as much as one _can_ storm in an inebriated state- into the room, sitting heavily by the fire. Harry was severely confused by his apparent anger as he sat down next to him.

"What's you issue?" Harry asked, "I was just kidding, you know. He's a friend of Dennis. Plus he works for Luna."

"I'm _sure_…" George said, finishing off the scotch.

"Seriously, George! What's your damage? I'm sorry I was late, but there's no reason for you to be acting like this," Harry said.

George was silent, refusing to look at Harry as he summoned another bottle from the kitchen.

"George? Could you answer me? Please?" Harry said gently, "Honestly, mate, you're confusing the hell out of me."

"I don't know. I'm being selfish…" George said, taking a long drink.

"How are you being selfish?" Harry asked.

"I- don't wanna share you…" George stated, catching Harry off guard. He certainly hadn't expected that. However, he said nothing, merely waited for the man to continue. "I know that sounds weird, but I really don't. For the first time in over two years, I don't feel totally alone… and- and I don't wanna lose that. I _can't_… I just…"

Harry smiled warmly at him, prying the scotch from his fingers and setting it aside. "You won't lose me, George. We'll always be friends, no matter how many people you have to share me with."

"Well, what if…" George trailed off.

"What if what?" Harry asked.

There was a moment of silence and then, "I'm drunk."

Harry almost laughed. "I know."

"I'd like to not be…" George said, "Drunk, that is…"

"Where'd you put the rest of those potions I brought you?" Harry asked.

"Kitchen counter," George replied.

"Do you _sleep_ in there, as well?" Harry said, chuckling.

"Nah… don't really sleep much, but- the bed's at least more comfortable," George stated.

Harry returned and handed him the potion, which he drank gratefully.

"So… 'what if' what?" Harry asked again.

George met his gaze and Harry saw something akin to fear in the ocean blue eyes. "What if- I want to be _more_… more than friends?"

Harry sat back abruptly. "What?"

George looked away. "Forget I said anything."

"No. Just- that kind of came out of left field, didn't it?" Harry said, his head still reeling, "I didn't even know you were gay."

"I- pretty much always have been. But… Fred liked girls, so- I… you know? I just didn't ant to acknowledge that difference between us," George said, "And it may have come out of left field for you, but I've had feelings for you for quite a while. I was just starting to come to terms with my lonely, loveless existence until you- literally- broke in to my life again yesterday."

Harry smiled. "I don't know whether to say I'm sorry or you're welcome."

"That depends on your response," George said seriously.

"I don't exactly know what to say. I can't say that I fell nothing for you… after you left last night, it was clear to me just empty my life really is and how much more… alive everything is when I'm with you… but- I don't know," Harry said.

"If you feel something more than friendship for me, then what more do you need to know?" George said, his eyes pleading, "What can I do to convince you to be mine?"

The look on George's face made him breathless, but those words nearly made his heart stop. Nobody had ever so desperately needed him or been as sincere as he was being.

"What's wrong?" George asked.

"I was happy," Harry replied, raking a hand through his already messy hair, "At this time yesterday, I was perfectly happy with my life. And then you waltz in and suddenly it seems empty and boring and lonely… and now- what are you doing to me? I had no feelings for you before, so why now? Why so suddenly?"

"Maybe there was a spark before, but you just didn't recognize it for what it was," George said, "After all, you were the only person who cared enough to help start our business. The only one who could ever tell us apart."

It made sense, looking back on it. He'd always sensed something in George that he hadn't in Fred. Maybe it _was_ a spark of attraction. But if that was true, then why wouldn't he have known? He sighed. Because he was busy convincing himself that he liked girls, that's why.

"Why are you thinking so much?" George said, grinning, "A relationship isn't something you can analyze. It's based upon emotions and chemistry. There's no rhyme or reason to the way you feel. It just is, because it is."

Harry smiled. "That was awfully philosophical."

"I've got two years on you, young man. I'm bound to have more life experience than you," George smirked.

"Okay… if you say so…" Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Don't sass me," George said playfully.

"So- if I said yes and agreed to try this with you… what would you do?" Harry asked.

"Kiss you," George replied.

Harry smiled. "Well, then I _have_ to say yes, don't I?"

"You do…" George said, capturing his lips in a tender kiss that seemed, to Harry, to last an eternity.

When they pulled apart, George rested his forehead against Harry's, keeping his eyes closed. Harry smiled, silently wondering why they hadn't done this ages ago. Damn them and their foolishness.

"How shall I break the news to your brother?" Harry whispered, fearing that if he spoke too loudly, he'd wake himself from the dream he'd surely fallen into.

"You could tell him at the Burrow next Friday," George said, "Or we could wait until Christmas. It would be a nice surprise, don't you think?" He opened his eyes and Harry saw the familiar laughter shining in them.

"I like the way you think," Harry said, grinning, "Christmas, it is!"

"So, are you going to invite me back to your place again?" George asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry gasped in mock indignity. "Why, George!" he exclaimed in a girly falsetto, "What kind of girl do you think I am?!" George laughed and told him never to talk like that again. "But yes, I _was_ going to, actually."

"Going to cook for me some more?" George said.

"Yes. Stew this time, and baked potatoes," Harry replied, "The stew shouldn't be done for a couple of hours, though. So, we've got time to kill."

"Whatever can we do for two hours?" George said, advancing on him.

Just as Harry felt himself being pushed to the floor, his cell phone began to ring. "Hello?" he answered, making shushing motions to George, "Hey, 'Mione. What? Oh… yeah, I talked to George. Yeah… it was good… uh-huh. You went to my flat earlier? Oh, I was to lunch with Dennis and his friend Rick. Long story. Where am I _now_? I'm- er… actually over at George's. Yeah, we're- talking." He grinned at George, who snickered. "Hm? Oh, sorry. What did you say? Oh… can you and Ron come over? Er… no, I don't think that'd be a good idea today. Well, I _just _got him to open up to me and he's still in a pretty sensitive state, y'know?" George was fighting back the laughter. "Uh-huh. I might be able to convince him. Honestly, tell Ron that patience is a virtue!" He laughed when he heard Ron's response in the background. "Yeah. I will. Dinner? I have- plans. Yeah… you could call it that. You won't be meeting him until Christmas. No, no exceptions. Yes, you're both still my best friends… Hermione Jane Granger! No! I have to go, now. No- no, I have to go. George and I were talking when you called… bye. Good bye!"

He hung up the phone and sighed.

"She's a bit of a pain, eh?" George said.

"She _hates_ it when she doesn't know something," Harry said, grinning.

George laughed. "Obviously."

"Didn't I say we were going to talk some more?" Harry stated.

"What would you like to talk about, Dr. Potter?" George said.

"You talk. I _listen_. That's how this works," he said, smirking.

"Then why don't you ask questions and I'll answer?" George suggested, drawing Harry's smaller form back against his chest.

"Hmm… why did you get rid of everything in here?" Harry asked.

George sighed. "Couldn't you have started with something easier?" He took a deep, fortifying breath. "It all reminded me of Freddy. We picked everything out and decorated this place together. Having it all around me just seemed like a constant reminder of how I failed him."

"You didn't fail him. There was nothing you could've done. I hope, with time, you'll come to accept that," Harry said.

"Maybe…" George replied, "So- next question."

"Why do you drink so much?" he asked.

"For the obvious reasons. It helps me forget, for a time. It makes me stop feeling," George said.

"Is it Fred that you're trying to forget?"

"Fred, and the pain, and the loneliness… everything, really," George said, "It just feels like so much pressure is on me to be strong and continue life as if nothing has changed. But I can't do that."

"Nobody is asking you to act like it never happened. Your family loves you and they want you to be happy," Harry said, turning in his arms to meet his gaze, "None of us could stand watching you slowly drink yourself to death. They just wanted to help you. They went about it in a bad way, but they did mean well."

"I know…" George sighed, "Maybe I was a little hard of them…"

"You can start making it up to them by coming to dinner at the Burrow next Friday," Harry said, kissing him on the nose, "They miss you."

George tried to smile. "Alright. You've convinced me."

"You know… there's no pressure to be strong when you're with me, right? If you feel like crying or just having an emotional breakdown, it's okay. You don't have to always be smiling," Harry said seriously.

"Thanks…" George said, hiding his face in the crook of Harry's neck.

He put his arms around the man's neck, stroking his hair gently. "You don't ever have to pretend with me. You don't have to force yourself to smile. I can tell when you're faking, you know…" George nodded against his shoulder. "I know it'll be hard for you to see them all, but they love you and miss you. They don't blame you. They never will. They just want you to be happy."

They sat like that for a few more moments, George silently crying and Harry holding him and whispering comforting words, before George sat up and gave a shaky smile. "I feel like such a girl…"

Harry laughed. "Everybody cries sometimes."

"Even you?" George said.

"More than you'd imagine," he replied.

George kissed him, letting it linger for a moment before moving away. "Then you can't ever be afraid to cry all over me, either."

"I won't. Don't worry," Harry said.

"Have we talked enough yet?" George asked, grinning, "I can definitely think of a few better uses for our mouths."

"I think we can call it a day. We've made some excellent progress," he replied, adjusting his glasses in a scholarly manner, "Where should I send your bill?"

George smirked, attacking Harry's mouth with his own as he pinned him to the floor. It was a deep, open-mouthed kiss, full of fire and passion. It was like no kiss Harry had ever experienced before. It made his body thrum with heat and sent his mind into a frenzied haze of sensation. Everything was centered around taste and touch, all other senses forgotten as his eyes fell shut and all he could hear was his own rapid heartbeat in his ears. His hands found their way up George's back to tangle in his hair. Vaguely, he heard the other man moan deep in his throat.

When the need for oxygen became a problem, they pulled apart, gasping for a moment before they returned with renewed vigor. Harry allowed his hands to roam George's back, arms, and chest freely, moving on pure animal instinct, which was a good thing if the sounds George made were any indication.

Just as George relocated his mouth to Harry's neck, the cell began to go off again. Harry groaned and fought to pull the damnable thing from his pocket. He pressed the silence button- or thought he did- and tossed it aside. George pulled back for a moment.

"Who was it?" he breathed.

"Who cares? Don't stop…" Harry answered just as breathlessly, pulling him in for a kiss.

"_Hello_?!" came a voice.

"Shit!" Harry exclaimed, pushing George away as gently as he could and scrambling for the phone. He snatched it up and flipped it open. "Hello?" he said, trying to calm his raging hormones.

"Harry? Is that you?"

"Yeah… Dennis? How'd you get my cell number?" Harry asked.

George was snickering in the background. "Leave it like that… I want to hear this…" he whispered.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I got it from Luna…" Dennis replied, "What the hell were you _doing_?"

"I- that was… er- nothing?" he said, unconvincingly.

"Didn't sound like nothing. Who are you with?" Dennis asked.

"Nobody," he lied.

"Found yourself a man, did you?" Dennis said, his amusement clear in his tone.

"I- it- that's… why did you call?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject.

"Just wanted to ask if we could d the interview next Saturday instead of Tuesday," Dennis stated, "Rick didn't check his schedule very thoroughly."

"Yeah… that's fine. Whatever works for you two," he said.

"So- are you going to tell me who you didn't want to stop?" Dennis asked innocently.

George roared with laughter at that.

"I'm glad you find this so funny!" Harry said, glaring at him, "Twit…"

"Well?" Dennis said, "If you tell me, I'll tell you _my_ big news."

"You and Rick got together," Harry said knowingly.

"Bloody- come on, Harry! Please tell me?" Dennis pleaded.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake…" George grabbed the phone, "Hello?"

"Who's this?" Dennis asked.

"Give me back my phone!" Harry exclaimed, making a grab for it which George easily dodged.

"You're not the only one with quick reflexes, Seeker-boy," George laughed, "So… Creevey, eh? I'm hurt that you don't recognize my voice."

"It's not Malfoy, is it?" Dennis said.

George smirked. "Well…"

"Don't you dare!" Harry hissed, making another dash for the phone. George grabbed him around the middle, pinning his arms to the side. "Don't you even think about pretending to be Draco!"

"Pretending? How would I be pretending?" George drawled in a good imitation of the blonde aristocrat, "I am…"

"George Artemius Weasley!" Harry exclaimed.

"Enough of an answer for you, little Dennis?" George laughed.

"_George Weasley_?" Dennis said.

"The one and only," he replied, grinning, "Harry's going to have to call you back later, though. He and I have some unfinished business, once I convince him not to kill me."

Dennis laughed. "Alright. It was nice talking to you."

"Likewise. Oh, and Dennis? Would you mind not telling anybody? We're keeping it as a Christmas surprise," George said.

"No problem. Bye, Harry!" Dennis said.

"Goodbye, Dennis," he growled.

They could hear Dennis laugh as he hung up.

"Will you let go of me now?" Harry asked.

"Will you let me live?" George replied.

"I can't make any promises," he said.

"Then I'm afraid I can't let you go," George said, chuckling, "After all, I can't let you kill me after you've just given me my will to live back. We've made such progress, you know…"

Harry looked up at him and smiled. "I suppose I won't kill you, then. This time…"

"Fair enough," George said, releasing his hold.

"Besides, I know I can trust Dennis," Harry said, stretching his arms over his head, "He's a good kid."

"Hmm… is he?" George said.

"Yeah," Harry said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"That's good," George stated absentmindedly.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked.

"Not really," George said.

"Are you _sure_?" Harry said, reaching up to cradle his face in his hands.

George suddenly grinned and kissed him fiercely. "Had you goin', didn't I?"

Harry laughed. "You jerk!"

"I'm starving! Do you think the food is ready?" George said.

"It should be. Shall we head to my place?" Harry said, grinning at George's enthusiastic nod.

Dinner was spent talking mostly about what their various friends were doing since graduating. Ron becoming an auror, Hermione working in the Department of Mysteries, Neville apprenticing with Professor Sprout and taking over her job… And, of course, the discussion eventually switched to Quidditch- always a popular subject- as well as the book that Harry had given him. Afterwards, Harry told George he could wait for him in the sitting room while he cleaned up. When he was done with that, he found George sleeping on the sofa and smiled to himself. He shook the man lightly, whispering his name.

George just groaned and swatted at him.

"Come on, George. You need to wake up," Harry tried again, shaking him a bit more forcefully, "You can't sleep on the sofa. You'll get a crick in your neck."

He cracked an eye open. "I don't want to go home. I can't sleep there…"

"You can sleep here, if you want to. Just not on the sofa," Harry said.

"Alright," George said, sitting up and stretching, "How many bedrooms you got?"

"Three… but one of them is Teddy's," Harry replied, "And before you have another fit, I'm talking about Teddy Lupin, my Godson, who is two years old."

George grinned. "Ah, yes… Teddy Lupin… I have so much to teach him…"

"I'm not letting you spend any time with him. That kid gets into enough trouble as it is," Harry laughed, "And I kind of thought you'd want to sleep in my room…" He blushed.

"You wouldn't mind?" George said.

"As long as it's- just sleeping… and you don't try anything funny," Harry said, his blush darkening.

George's eyebrows rose practically to his hairline. "Harry… you're a virgin, aren't you?"

Harry grew defensive at the question, crossing his arms over his chest and standing up from his crouching position. "So what if I am?"

George laughed and pulled him down onto his lap. "It's not a bad thing and I wasn't trying to insult you. I think it just makes you even more attractive."

Harry was still bristling a bit so he kissed him reassuringly.

"If you don't mind me asking, how far have you gone?"

"Just kissing…" he replied.

"So how do you know you're even gay?" George asked.

"I like kissing guys a lot more than I ever liked kissing Ginny or Cho," he replied.

"And what boys have you kissed?" George said, teasingly poking him in the side.

Harry mumbled something under his breath.

"I didn't quite catch that…"

"Draco Malfoy and Oliver Wood…" he repeated.

"_Really_? How'd that work out for you?" George said.

"Oliver and I were together for a few months before his job took him elsewhere. I realized that we never would've lasted when I wasn't even sad to see him go," Harry said, "And then… Draco and I kissed at the Ministry party last May and… well, the attraction was there, but no real feelings. We had a good laugh and have become good friends since."

"Why did he kiss you?" George asked.

"I don't know! It was a random, drunken, spur-of-the-moment thing! How far have _you_ gone?" Harry shot back.

"As far as one _can_ go," George replied.

"How many?" Harry asked, feeling a rush of jealousy.

"I don't know… a lot? And don't give me that look! I've been in a shitty place for two and a half years and… sex was another handy way to forget my problems…" George said.

"How many were you serious about?" Harry asked.

"None. You're the first to tame the beast," George replied, grinning.

Harry smiled. "Good."

George kissed him sweetly. "I don't get to be your first anything, do I?"

"You're the first person to give me a bloody hickey…" Harry grumbled teasingly, "And you'll be the first person I've shared a bed with."

"Sounds like a good start. What other firsts can I be?" George said, giving him a lecherous grin.

"Pervert!" Harry exclaimed, laughing, "I think you've violated me enough for one day."

"It'll never be enough for me…" George whispered into his ear, taking the sensitive lobe between his teeth.

Harry hissed in a breath. "Careful… I might think you're just in this for the sex…"

"What sex?" George growled.

Harry shivered at the low, husky tone.

"I love how responsive you are…" George said softly, running his hands up the length of Harry's sides, "You have absolutely no idea how beautiful you are, do you?"

Harry turned to protest that he wasn't at _all_ attractive, but found his mouth captured by a deep, hungry kiss. He moaned loudly, arching his back when George's hands found their way under his shirt. George answered with a moan of his own at the friction he created every time he shifted.

"God! We have to stop…" Surprisingly, it was George who tore his mouth away to speak.

"Why?" Harry mewled in his displeasure.

George took his hands back and brought them up to Harry's face. "Because if we don't stop now, I won't be able to at all. And you won't be able to deny me."

"Who says I want to deny you?" Harry said.

George sighed, kissing his forehead. "Look, we're both pretty much new to this. You've never done anything this intense before and I've never been with anybody that I felt strongly for. So… let's just take it slow. I want to do this the right way, Harry. And I don't want you to regret anything."

"When did you get so sweet?" Harry said, smiling.

"I've always been sweet, I'll have you know," George stated.

"I think Ron would disagree…" Harry laughed.

George grinned. "I think you're right."

Harry sighed contentedly, leaning back against George's strong chest and resting his head against his shoulder.

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" George asked.

"I'm supposed to be going shopping with Hermion, Ginny, and Fleur at eleven," he replied, chuckling, "Fleur's going to be having that baby any day now, I swear. And now Ginny, too… there're going to be a lot of new little Weasleys running around."

"Mum'll be happy about _that_," George said.

"She'll be happier when Ron finally asks Hermione to marry him…" Harry said.

"He's so dense sometimes," George laughed, "I can't believe he _still_ hasn't popped the question!"

"Anyway, after that I have no definite plans. Why?" Harry said.

"Would you like to go _out_ to dinner?" George asked, "Like… a real date?"

"I'd love to… but only you really want to," he replied.

"I do. But… do you mind if we go somewhere in muggle London? I don't want to run into anybody I know," George said.

"Wherever you choose is fine with me," Harry stated, "As long as we can go to bed soon…"

"Is somebody sleepy?" George said, speaking as though to a small child.

"It's been a long day," he said, yawning.

George chuckled, standing and picking him up. "Then we should get you to bed."

"George! Put me down! I _can_ walk!" Harry exclaimed.

"I don't want to let you down," George said, holding him more tightly, "Which room is yours?"

"First door on the left…" Harry said, blushing.

George opened the door and stepped into the room, kicking it shut behind them, and deposited Harry on the bed.

"What exactly was the point of carrying me in here?" Harry asked, sitting up.

"It was worth it to see that cure expression on your face," George said.

Harry walked into the bathroom, grabbing a pair of pajama pants, and shut the door, muttering about 'silly gits' and 'freaking embarrassing'.

George stripped down to his boxers and crawled into large bed, burrowing into the warmth of the soft blankets. Harry returned a moment later dressed only in the black, drawstring pants and George practically drank in the sight of him. He had a lithe, toned body, no bulky but not quite feminine, rather like a dancer's build. It was pure perfection in George's eyes.

"Quit staring. You're making me nervous…" Harry said, getting into bed next to the red-haired man.

George immediately pulled him close and wrapped his arms around him. "I can't help it that you're so gorgeous."

Harry couldn't find the words to respond as his mind was currently on overload from all of the skin-to-skin contact. "George?" he whispered.

"What?"

"Are you- not wearing any clothes?" he asked.

"I kept my boxers on for your sake," George said, smirking.

"Oh… okay then," he said.

George laughed. "Come on, now! Neither of us are going to get any sleep with you lying there all tense. It's just me… I won't do anything 'funny' as you put it. Relax, Harry."

He sighed and willed himself to calm down. However, his mind kept coming back to the feel of George's bare chest against his back, his arms wrapped around his own naked torso, and couldn't settle down.

"I'll go sleep in another room…" George said, sighing.

Harry turned quickly and forced him back down, landing half on top of him. "Don't… I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so nervous."

"You're not the only one who's nervous…" George said, "But if me being here is going to make you lose sleep, I can go to the spare room."

"No… just- let me get used to it," Harry said, resting his cheek against his chest, allowing the sound of the other man's heart fill him. His hand was splayed against hard, muscular abs and he found himself tracing the lines of those muscles, carding through the light dusting of hair that led into the waistband of his boxers. It was a subconscious motion on his part, but it was affecting George in a rather extreme way.

"Harry…" he said huskily, grabbing his wrist, "You probably should stop that."

"Sorry," he said, blushing, and moved his hand up to a safer location.

"Are you calm now?" George asked.

Harry nodded.

"That's good. However, I find that I am the antithesis of calm at the moment…"

He chuckled. "I said I was sorry. I didn't even know I was doing it."

"It's fine. I'll just think of something really gross…" George said, "Like breast…"

Harry burst into laughter at that, rolling away and clutching his stomach. "B-breats? That's how you- get rid of your erection?! By thinking about- _breasts_?!"

"Oh, shut up!" George said, "They're gross! Just flabby lumps of shapeless fat…" He shuddered.

Harry only laughed harder.

"Prat…" George grumbled.

Harry got himself under control and turned back to him. "I'm sorry… that was just hilarious. I haven't laughed like that in ages…"

"I'm glad I could provide you with some amusement," George said, pulling him closer, "Now could we possibly get some sleep?"

Harry kissed his cheek and smiled. "At least now I'm totally relaxed."

George grinned. "Good night, Harry."

"Mm… night…" Harry said, the sound of George's pulse in his ears already lulling him to sleep.

George soon followed and they slipped into peaceful slumber, wrapped securely in each other's embrace.

HxGxHxGxHxG

Huzzah! Chapter Two! Long as SHIT! Lol. Longer than One, if I'm not mistaken. Crazy! This story is such fun to write! Sorry if it seems like they moved kinda fast. I promise that they really are going to take it slow. Unless you all WANT them to jump into the sexings! (Of course, even then… I have too much fun drawing it out… insert evil cackle ) PLEASE review! I was pleased with the feedback of Chapter One! I LOVE reviews!!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Potterverse. It all belongs to JKR and a bunch of other companies. I make no money or profit of any kind from this story.

A/N: And so! The much anticipated Chapter Three!!! I'm really pleased at how much feedback I've gotten! Especially since this isn't necessarily a _main_ Slash Ship! Thank you, my lovely readers!!!

~III~

The next few days were some of the best in Harry's life. Baby shopping wasn't nearly as harrowing a task as he thought it would be. And his date with George was- perfect. The man had dressed in dark jeans and a black button up shirt and taken him to an upscale Italian restaurant where the food was divine. After dinner, they went to a late movie, an action film starring some American actor, that probably entertained George more than Harry, but was still very good. They finally retired to Harry's flat at nearly midnight and once again, fell asleep in each other's arms.

That became their routine. During the day, Harry spent time with his friends, and George slipped away to Merlin-knows-where- Harry couldn't get a straight answer out of him- and their nights were spent together, always at Harry's place. George slept better there, he said, and Harry slept better with George, so he had no complaints. They went out on a few more dates, going to clubs, and ice skating, and dinners… Before they knew it, it was Friday, December 15th, and they were getting ready for dinner at The Burrow.

"Don't stress about it…" Harry said, kissing him lightly, "I'll be there with you and- they're your family. Just remember that."

He sighed heavily. "Yeah, I know. Thanks."

"It's what I do," Harry said, "Do you want me to go first?"

George nodded and he disappeared into the fireplace, still preferring floo over apparation. He arrived at The Burrow and was greeted with hugs and slaps on the back and handshakes… The entire brood was there. Molly and Arthur, Bill and a _very _pregnant Fleur, Charlie, Percy and Penelope, Ron and Hermione, Andromeda and Teddy, Ginny and Neville… and when George arrived with a crack next to Harry, they all fell silent. Just when Harry thought George might flee, Molly burst into tears and grabbed him up in a tight hug.

"Oh, George! I'm so sorry! I only wanted to help you, but all I did was drive you away!" she blubbered.

"Mum… can't- breathe…" he gasped and she let him go.

Soon, George found himself being hugged by every single Weasley present, even Percy, _plus_ Hermione. He finally put his hands up in surrender and, laughing, backed away from them. "Seriously, you guys… ever heard of 'killing with kindness'?"

Harry smiled, glad to see his surrogate family brought together again. He felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down to see Teddy reaching up for him. "You want up?"

The boy nodded.

"What's the magic word?" he asked.

"Pees!" Teddy exclaimed, bouncing up and down.

Harry laughed and pucked him up, placing him on his shoulders. Teddy giggled and squealed in excitement. "You like being up high?"

"Up! Up!" Teddy laughed.

"Harry… can we speak with you?" Molly said, approaching him with Arthur.

"Sure…" he said, following them into the kitchen. He shot George a confused look as he bounced Teddy on his shoulders.

"We just wanted to thank you," Arthur said when they were alone.

"Ron told us about how you spoke with George. And he seems to be doing so much better…" Molly added, tearing up again.

"He really just needed somebody to listen," Harry said, setting Teddy down, "Go get Uncle Ron, okay? I need to have a grown up talk."

"Kay!" Teddy said, running into the sitting room.

"That's how Professor Dumbledore used to get me to open up. He'd ask a few simple questions and then just sit and listen while I vented. It always made me feel better so.." he shrugged, "I didn't really do anything special."

"You _did_ though! You were there for him when _we_- his own parents- didn't know what to do…" Molly said.

"It's true. We're really grateful. You've done more for this family than you can imagine and there's no way that we can ever repay you," Arthur stated.

Harry smiled. "You accepted me into your home and into your family when I had none of my own. That means more to me than anything."

Molly hugged him them, much the same way she'd hugged George, and kissed the top of his head. "I don't care what anybody says! As far as I'm concerned, you're as much my son as Ron and George and Bill-"

"He gets the idea, dear," Arthur said, chuckling, "You can stop suffocating him."

"Sorry… I'm just so happy," she said.

"You'll always have a place here, son," Arthur said, "Remember that."

"Yeah… I know," Harry choked, fighting back tears of his own.

"Well! We should probably get back to the family, then!" Arthur said, "Molly, dear, should we round them up for dinner?"

"Oh! Yes of course!" Molly said, falling instantly back into her usual self, "Come on, you lot! Go and wash up before the food gets cold!"

Harry grinned and headed up the stairs with the rest of them. Before he made it to the washroom, though, he was pulled into Ron's old room.

"What'd you guys talk about?" George asked.

"You. What else?" he said, grinning, "They just wanted to thank me for pulling you out of your depression, even if only a little."

"This is a lot easier than I thought it would be," George said, "It's almost like nothing's changed. Like I wasn't absent from their lives until a few moments ago."

"As I said, they're you family. Whether you like it or not," Harry said, "Now let's go wash up before everybody comes looking for us."

"Hold on a minute…" George said, grabbing him around the waist, "I have my own thanks to give."

He leaned down and kissed Harry languidly, taking his time in exploring every inch of his mouth, coaxing Harry to do the same and moaning when he felt the timid mimicking of his own actions. When they pulled apart, Harry smiled.

"What was that for?"

"For making me come here. I never realized how much I missed the chaos of my family," George replied.

"I'm glad you're happy and I'd love to continue this, but we really have to go back down or we'll be dead for sure," Harry said.

They washed as fast as they could and headed down to the dining room. Harry found himself seated between Ron and George and was very thankful for whoever left those two seats open. Dinner at The Burrow was just as it always is. Hectic. Perhaps more so with George there to encourage Teddy. Molly's cooking was as delicious as ever, far surpassing anything he'd eaten from a restaurant, and he was sure he'd gained twenty pounds by the end of it.

The conversation _did_ turn to Fred at one point, and Harry reached his hand under the table to grasp George's. He seemed to take it all in stride, mostly laughing and smiling, but the way he squeezed Harry's hand made him think that he wasn't quite as composed as he seemed. So, Harry deliberately, but subtly, changed the subject to something less touchy: Quidditch, of course!

George snuch a small smile of gratitude to him and relaxed his grip on Harry's hand. He didn't let go, though.

After dinner, they went into the sitting room and were offered brandy. Harry had to hold back a sigh of relief when George opted for tea instead, and accepted a cup of tea himself. The topics centered around babies, thankfully, and the evening was spent laughing about the absurd baby names Bill had suggested and poking fun at Neville for having to deal with a hormonal Ginny.

To which Ginny responded with, "So, Harry… Hermione tells us you're seeing someone?"

He nearly choked on his tea at the abrupt change of subject. "Er… yeah. I am."

He was hounded with questions from all directions and he simply laughed and said, "I'm not telling you anything. You'll all get to meet him at Christmas."

"But, Harry! We're family, mate! Why won't you tell us?" Rom said, looking suspiciously like he was pouting.

"Because I want it to be a surprise," Harry replied, grinning, "Besides, we haven't been together for very long, so I don't want him to feel too overwhelmed."

"Do we know him?" Ginny asked.

Harry thought about it for a moment before shrugging and saying, "You could say that. But I'm not telling you anymore."

Molly smiled. "Does he make you happy?"

Harry nodded. "Happier than I can ever remember being."

George had to hide his smile behind his teacup.

"Then I can wait," Molly said.

Eventually, they all began to clear out, giving hugs and kisses and promising to get together soon. Harry had to pinkie-promise Teddy that he would spend the day with him on Monday before the little guy would leave. Finally, he was back at his flat, patiently waiting for George to arrive.

He waited nearly ten minutes before the man showed up, grinning even through unshed tears. Harry jumped to his feet, a worried look on his face. George laughed shakily. "I'm fine, really. It's just Mum, y'know?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah… I know. She's got some kind of special power, I swear."

George wiped furiously at his eyes. "I'm twenty-two years old! Who'd have thought I'd miss my mum and dad this much?"

Harry drew him into a hug. "I happen to think it's sweet. I like your softer side."

George wrapped his arms around him tightly. "Thanks for being there. I don't think I could've done that alone."

"I feel bed for keeping this from them," Harry said quietly.

"Would you rather we told them sooner?" George asked.

Harry shook his head. "I think it'll be worth it to see their faces…"

George laughed. "That'll be a good one. Maybe we should bring Creevey and his camera."

"_That _would be a photo for my mantle!" Harry said, laughing.

"Speaking of Dennis Creevey," George said, "Don't you have an interview tomorrow?"

"Mm-hmm…" Harry said, nuzzling his chest.

"Do you need me to leave before they get here?" George asked.

"No. You can stay. I want you to stay," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of George's shirt.

George rested his cheek on the top of Harry's head. "Are you tired?"

"Not really," he sighed, "Just comfortable…"

"Don't you think it'd be more comfortable on the sofa?" George suggested.

Harry nodded, reluctantly letting go of him to walk to the sofa and sit down next to the man, curling into his side. "You were right. This is much better."

George placed an arm around him. "Told you."

In the next moment the television was on, broadcasting the local news. Before he realized, Harry had fallen asleep, feeling safe and warm in George's embrace. He woke up some time later to find George watching cartoons and smiled.

"Why didn't you wake me?" he yawned.

"You looked too adorable to wake," George replied, smirking.

"So… I guess maybe I'm a little tired," Harry said, "Do you want to go to bed?"

George nodded, switching off the television. "I'm beat…"

They fell asleep the same way they always did that night… completely entwined in each other. However, George's slumber was significantly less than peaceful, haunted by a familiar face…

Harry's sleep was interrupted later that night by an elbow to the nose. He woke up with a jolt of pain and sat up, fully alert and on the defensive. Until, that is, he heard his bedmate cry out in anguish. He turned to George to find him thrashing wildly, tangled in the blankets, and calling out for his fallen twin. He was covered in a sheen of sweat that mingled with tears, and Harry felt a pang of sadness for him.

"Fred! Freddy please… wake up…" George whimpered desperately, "No! It wasn't my fault! Not my fault… not- my fault… I'm sorry…"

Harry pulled the blankets away and tossed them aside, freeing George's legs. He pulled the man, who was still mumbling incoherently, into his arms, sitting against the headboard. He pushed George's sweat-soaked hair away from his forehead, placing a soft kiss on the exposed skin.

"George… you need to wake up," he said gently, rocking him a bit, "You're having a nightmare… it's just a dream, love. Please wake up?"

"I- no, I can't leave- Freddy…" George said, still submerged in his own mind.

"It's Harry… remember? I'm here with you, but you _have _to wake up," he said.

George woke with a start, still calling out for Fred.

"Shh… It's okay… you're safe," Harry said, making soothing noises in his ear.

George's only response was to turn in Harry's arms and sob brokenly into his chest. Harry held him like that for a long time, softly telling him that it was only a dream and that it was okay, that it would be alright. By the time George finally fell into a more tranquil slumber, the sun was beginning to come up. Harry sighed, giving George one last tender kiss and leaving the bed, covering him back up.

He took a long, relaxing shower, dressing in denim jeans and a dark green turtleneck, and set about cooking breakfast. Dennis and Rick were supposed to be there at eight o'clock in the morning and he figured that they would probably skip breakfast in their excitement. When everything was finished, he set it out on the table, placing stasis and warming charms on everything, and grabbed two mugs of coffee, heading into the bedroom.

When he found an empty bed waiting for him, he set the coffee on the end table and turned to search for his missing boyfriend, bumping into him in the process. "Good morning."

"Good morning…" George said, swooping down for a kiss.

"I thought you'd still be sleeping," Harry said.

"The bacon woke me up," George replied, grinning.

Harry laughed. "Of course it did. Honestly, would you be offended if I just started calling you _Ron_?"

George growled, tackling him to the bed.

"Should I take that as a yes?" he said.

George kissed him again, this time more thoroughly, coaxing Harry's lips to part with a teasing swipe of his tongue. He groaned when the younger man acquiesced, allowing him entry. George could taste the coffee on his tongue, mingling with a taste that was purely Harry, and found the combination to be pleasantly intoxicating. And when Harry's own tongue began responding in kind, he growled again, nearly losing his composure.

Harry pulled away first, breathing heavily. "As much as I love this- and I really, _really_ do- we've got guests coming over soon."

George murmured some kind of acknowledgment and sat up, raking a hand through his damp hair.

"Here. I brought coffee," Harry said, handing him a cup.

He took it gratefully, drinking half of it in one gulp.

"Trust me… you'll need that once Dennis gets here," Harry stated, smirking.

"Just so you know," George said when the doorbell rang, "I fully intend to continue this once they've gone."

Harry blushed under the lustful gaze, hurrying to get the door. Although he felt he was ready, George would never take things further than kissing and the occasional round of necking. It was something that Harry found both endearing and eternally frustrating…

"Hiya, Harry!" Dennis said when he let them in.

"Hey, Dennis," he replied, "Rick."

"Mr. Potter," Rick said, nodding cordially.

"I told you to call me Harry, remember?" he stated, "I hope you're hungry, because I thought we could have some breakfast before we get started."

Dennis grinned. "I'm starved! I was too excited to eat earlier!"

Harry laughed. "I figured as much. What about you, Rick? Have you eaten?"

Rick chuckled abashedly. "No… I haven't."

"Good, because Harry always cooks enough for a small army," George said, coming up behind him.

"George? I didn't know you were going to be here…" Dennis said, looking slyly at Harry.

"Don't get any ideas. It's probably not what you're thinking," Harry said.

Dennis only smirked.

"Dennis never mentioned that you had a boyfriend…" Rick said, "Or that it was the infamous George Weasley."

"Rick, right?" George said, holding out his hand.

Rick took it, clasping it tightly. It was at that moment that Harry realized how similar in build the two were. Almost equal in height, with George only about inch taller and Rick being broader. He and Dennis shared an amused look.

"So, Rick…" George said as they sat down to eat, "Did you go to Hogwarts?"

"I actually studied abroad in America," he replied.

"That's pretty cool. What's it like in the stated?" George asked.

"Loud," Rick stated succinctly, making them laugh.

"He wasn't kidding, was he? You cooked _all_ of this by yourself?" Dennis said, helping himself.

"Yeah… I've got stop overdoing it…" Harry said sheepishly.

"And you cooked all of this _without_ magic…" Rick said, tucking into his own plate.

"I like doing things the muggle way. It's more rewarding in the end," Harry replied, shrugging, "And I actually find cooking kind of relaxing."

"_And _it's delicious! It seems that the Harry Potter you hear about in the tabloids isn't who we think he is," Rick said, chuckling.

"That's what I've been telling you!" Dennis exclaimed, "I wish you'd quit reading that drivel!"

Rick laughed. "I know, I know…"

Dennis sighed and shook his head. "So, Harry, are you and George living together, now?"

"Pretty much," he answered, "Oh… can we not mention this in the interview? We want to surprise the family."

Rick looked crestfallen, making Harry smile.

"I promise that after Christmas, you two can come back and do another exclusive interview all about my love life, if you want," he said, "But not until after Christmas."

Rick brightened up considerably. "Seriously? That would be great! I still can't believe you're helping me out like this."

"Harry's always helping people," George said with a secretive smile, "It's just what he does."

He blushed, but didn't protest. He knew it wouldn't change their minds any.

"It's almost like you've appointed us as your official publicity covers," Dennis said.

"I guess I kind of have," Harry stated, smiling at them, "I trust you two and I need people to finally write the truth and dispel all of these silly rumors."

"Well then, we should finish eating and get to the interview," Rick said, grinning.

When breakfast was finished, Harry instructed them to wait in the sitting room while he cleaned up. He was in the process of picking up the dirty dishes when he heard a shutter click. He looked up to see Dennis grinning at him.

"Pictures for the article," he explained before leaving Harry to his work.

Harry sighed and shook his head, imagining the reactions when people saw him doing mundane, daily tasks like every other normal person. He joined them a moment later, taking a seat on the sofa next to George while Rick and Dennis took the armchairs.

Rick set a tape recorder out on the table and Harry smirked.

"I see I'm not the only one who prefers some things the muggle way."

"More reliable than a Quick Quotes Quill," Rick responed.

Harry shuddered at the reminder. "Very true…"

Rick hit the record button and sat back…

The interview went smoothly. Rick stuck to asking about his current life and his plans for the future, never delving too far into his past. A couple of questions struck a sensitive chord in him, but George would always squeeze his hand, much the same way he had for him the previous night. The only time that Harry had gotten truly upset was when Rick asked the final question, about how he'd defeated Voldemort in the end. He took a few moments to calm himself and carefully calculate an answer.

He simply replied with, "I don't really like to talk about it. But I _will_ tell you that a lot of people played a part in it. My friends, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna were really key components in both the overall outcome and my survival. As well as Narcissa Malfoy and Severus Snape, surprisingly. But that's all I'm willing to say at this time."

Rick took the vague answer happily and didn't press for any more information.

"You can expect the article to be published in next weeks issue," Ruck said as he and Dennis packed their things up, "Thanks again for this, Harry."

"It was no problem. It was actually kind of fun," Harry said.

"I'm glad you feel that way, because I'm not going to forget your promise," Rick said, grinning, "Expect a call from me after Christmas."

"I certainly hope to hear from you before then," Harry said, "I'd like to think we're friends."

"Of course!" Rick said, beaming.

"Well, Dennis, I guess that means I'll be seeing more of you," George said, "Hopefully we won't be so ignored next time."

Harry laughed. "Don't be so dramatic. It was an _interview_."

"I was still _ignored_," George huffed.

"I'll make it up to you later, okay?" Harry purred into his ear, kissing his cheek.

George grinned and immediately began behaving, making Harry laugh again.

Dennis and Rick exchanged a look before standing. "Well, we still have a lot of work to do, so we'll just head out," Rick said.

Harry blushed lightly. "You don't have to leave!"

"We have an article to write and I still have to develop these pictures," Dennis said, pulling his jacket on, "And plus… well- we kind of had a lunch date planned." It was Dennis' turn to blush.

Harry smiled. "I guess it can't be helped, then. I'll see you both soon, I hope?"

They nodded and left him alone with George.

"So, about making it up to me…" George said coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around the slender shoulders of his boyfriend.

Harry chuckled. "I said later."

"It _is_ later…" George purred, nuzzling the top of Harry's head and inhaling the refreshing scent of his shampoo.

Harry turned in the embrace to place a gentle, chaste kiss on George's lips. "Then why don't we reconvene to the bedroom?"

George growled his approval of this idea, practically pulling Harry through the flat. As soon as they reached their room, the ginger haired man pushed him onto the bed, crawling on top of him slowly. He reveled in the flushed face and heavy breathing of his young lover, a feral grin splitting his usually playful expression.

Harry's eyes widened at how animalistic George appeared and he was surprised when he felt himself instantly harden. "George…" he gasped, allowing his head to drop back onto the pillows and arching his back in a silent plea to be touched.

"Yes, Harry?" George replied, merely hovering over him.

"Please…" he breathed.

"Do you want something?" George asked.

"Merlin's- you _know_ what I want!" Harry exclaimed, pulling the man down to kiss him hard, "I want you to kiss me, touch me, _anything. _Just- quit teasing me!"

George smirked. "As you wish…"

He leaned in to attach his mouth to Harry's neck, sucking and biting lightly, making him moan and gasp. At the same time, he slid a hand under the young wizard's shirt, softly skimming his nails up his side before his fingers found the little hardened nubs they'd been seeking. He flicked and pinched and twisted, surprised to find that Harry seemed to enjoy the particularly rough treatment and reveling in the knowledge.

Harry thought that he was going to die for certain. Everything that George did seemed to be some kind of torture, specially designed to drive him mad. He moaned and mewled, writhing beneath his boyfriend, gasping and babbling for more… George's mouth kept moving from his neck to his ear to his mouth and back, never staying in one place too long, never giving him the time to catch his breath. At the same time his hand moved from the right to the left, alternating hard and soft, roughly twisting, then barely touching at all. Again, he arched, this time making sure to grind their straining erections together.

George threw his head back, hissing at the sudden stimulation. "Fuck, Harry!"

"George…" he gasped, "Please hurry… Do something! I need _more_…"

"What do you want?" George asked, smirking when Harry whimpered desperately.

"I want- need to…" he blushed prettily, "I need to come…"

It was barely a whisper, but George heard it and groaned huskily, kissing him fiercely. His hand slipped out from under Harry's shirt, moving down to undo his trousers. He pulled the younger man's erection from his pants, wrapping his hand firmly around the average sized shaft.

"Oh God! Fuck- George… Ah- d- don't…" Harry cried out when he felt the large, calloused hand touch him. He was blushing madly, embarrassed at the thought of being touched in a place he'd only ever touched himself, and at being looked at in such a way. Although, to his shock, the shame seemed to heighten his arousal. He mewled and whimpered when the hand began to stroke him, squeezing none too gently.

"Do you really want me to stop?" George asked, dropping his voice an octave.

Harry shut his eyes tightly and shook his head, panting harshly, arching into the touch. "N- no… don't stop… so close… faster, _please_!"

George grinned, speeding his hand's movements until Harry was nearly screaming. Moments later and Harry came, back arching almost painfully, his head thrown back, crying George's name and spraying his seed over his own chest and face. He fell back onto the bed limply, breathless, and tried to calm his rapid heartbeat.

George leaned in to lick some of the milky white substance from his lover's cheek and kissed him, sharing his own taste. Harry moaned quietly at the salty sweetness of the kiss.

"That was… great," he said when George pulled away, opening his green eyes lazily, "Better than great, actually. What's better than great?"

"Fantastic? Spectacular? Awesome? Earth- shattering?" George suggested, smirking.

"Mmm… yeah. All of those," he replied, smiling serenely.

George cast a quick cleaning charm before lying down next to Harry, pulling him into his arms. The dark-haired wizard gasped when he felt the obvious arousal pressing into his backside. Then a wicked grin spread across his face and he pushed himself backward, grinding his hips back and delighting in the sharp intake of breath he heard behind him.

"Harry… stop…" George gasped.

"I hardly think that I've made it up to you, yet," he purred, turning in the embrace and smirking.

"Trust me… you have," George answered, kissing his forehead.

Harry's smirk turned into a frown of confusion. "But- you haven't even…"

The red head smiled warmly. "It's fine. You don't have to do anything that you don't want to."

"I _want_ to…" Harry said softly, reaching down to stroke him through his jeans.

His confusion grew exponentially when George suddenly sat up and gently disentangled himself from him. "I'm going to- take a shower." Without another word, George disappeared into the bathroom, leaving a stunned, confused, and rather hurt Harry to stare after him. However, the more he thought about it, the more certain he became that there was something more to George's constant reserve, that there was something deeper that the man wasn't telling him. And he made a silent vow to break through whatever barriers his boyfriend and lover had erected around himself.

~III~

**SPECIAL ALERT!!! Sneak Preview of Chapter Four NOW AVAILABLE on my Yahoo!Group! Go to my Profile Page and you will find a link to it! There are tons of other features, as well: Never-Before-Read stories that will only be available through the group, Reader Polls and Input, E-Mail Notifications of updated stories, Fanart done by myself and the other moderator, PLUS you can now upload your own stories! You can join with ANY email address! Doesn't have to be yahoo. So come and join! You won't be disappointed!**


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